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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866422">Any Port in a Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammemyself/pseuds/iammemyself'>iammemyself</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games), Portal (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:22:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammemyself/pseuds/iammemyself</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claptrap had only planned on hanging out with this Wheatley guy long enough to drop him off with somebody who could get him back home, but an emergency stop in a place with only one charging outlet put a major snag into THAT plan… [There Was Only One Bed but with robots]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claptrap (Borderlands)/Wheatley (Portal)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Any Port in a Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t the first time Claptrap had gotten stranded in the middle of the desert because he’d been kidnapped and thrown into the back of a Bandit Technical and then gotten thrown out again either on purpose or by mistake, but it was the first time he’d been standing there trying to figure out where he was when a robot fell out of the sky and clocked him so hard he fell over.</p><p>He got back onto his wheel again and looked around to find a round robot, a little bigger than a basketball, lying in the dirt about two metres away.  “Hey!” he shouted at it.  “What was that for?”</p><p>The robot didn’t answer.  Maybe it couldn’t talk?  Man, wouldn’t that be a shame.  He crossed the space between them and looked down at it.  It looked back up at him with an eye that was like half the size of its entire chassis.  “Where am I?” the robot asked, his voice set to what Claptrap could only pin down as ‘accented male’.  Claptrap shrugged.</p><p>“Hell if I know.  Where’d you come from?”</p><p>“... space?” he answered, not sounding entirely sure about it.</p><p>“We’re all in space, buddy,” Claptrap said.  “Look, I’m headin’ back to civilisation anyways, so if you want I’ll take you along.”</p><p>“Sounds good,” said the robot, and Claptrap tucked him inside of one arm and off they went.</p><p>It turned out they were several<em> days</em> from civilisation, which wasn’t so bad because Claptrap’s new travelling companion liked to talk.  His name was Wheatley and he came from some wacky science lab.  He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to Pandora, but he felt like it had something to do with a bright light he’d seen sometime before it happened.  It was day three or four of this when Wheatley suddenly started getting a lot less chatty, and the prospect of trudging through the desert for one single minute without someone to talk to was super terrifying.  “You good, man?” he asked. </p><p>“No,” said Wheatley, much more quietly than he had before, “I don’t think so.”</p><p>“What?” Claptrap exclaimed, stopping short.  “Why?”</p><p>“Haven’t been plugged into anything for a <em>long</em> time,” Wheatley answered.  “Battery’s beginning to go, I reckon.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Claptrap.  “Well, <em>that’s</em> no problem!  I mean, I haven’t been charged in a hot minute either, but as long as the sun or the moon is shining I’m good!  You can just go ahead and go into sleep mode or whatever.  I’ll plug you in when we get there.  Judging by that shack in the distance, we must be getting close.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Sure!  It’s no – what?”  He looked up as best he could, because the sky seemed awfully <em>dark</em> all of a sudden.  “That’s weird.”</p><p>“What is?” asked Wheatley, and from the sound of it he moved to look up at the sky as well.  “Going to rain, I reckon.”</p><p>Claptrap laughed.  “<em>Rain</em>?  It doesn’t <em>rain</em> on Pandora.  Rain is something that happens on <em>other</em> planets that <em>don’t</em> spend all day and all night trying to kill you!”</p><p>“Looks like it to me,” said Wheatley, sounding miffed.  “I mean, look.  Ev’rything’s there.  Dark clouds, no sun, gone a bit windy all of a sudden.  Those’re all signs of rain, mate.”</p><p>“I am <em>telling</em> you, it doesn’t <em>rain</em> on Pandora!”  As he said it, a big wet <em>something</em> splattered onto his eye and he jumped backward. </p><p>“Hm,” said Wheatley.  “What could that be?  Not rain.  Couldn’t be rain.  It’s <em>wet</em> like rain, and it fell out of the <em>sky</em> like rain, and it came along with all the <em>signs</em> of rain, but it’s definitely not –“</p><p>“O<em>kay</em>!” snapped Claptrap.  “I get it!  Whatever.  It doesn’t matter.  I’ve got an umbrella.”  And he opened his storage tray with his free hand and rummaged around for it.</p><p>“Mate, that’s a parasol,” said Wheatley.</p><p>“Parasol, umbrella, what’s the difference?”  He pushed it open and held it over himself.</p><p>… and it promptly collapsed under the pressure of so much water it was as though he was standing underneath the universe’s biggest garden hose.</p><p>“There’s the difference!” said Wheatley, and Claptrap threw aside the useless… parasol and used his free hand to shade his eye from all the water currently messing up his vision. </p><p>“You don’t happen to remember the direction that shack was in, do you?”</p><p>“Who’s the one that <em>lives here</em>?” Wheatley asked, exasperated.</p><p>“You sure are <em>mean</em> when your battery’s dying,” said Claptrap, maybe a little petulantly, and he moved as fast as he could in the direction he was pretty sure he needed to be going.  Wheatley sighed.</p><p>“Sorry.  I just – I’m not waterproof, Claptrap, and if my battery dies during all this then my chassis is not going to stay closed.  And then I’ll be dead.  So yeah.  Bit testy at the moment.  Since I might be about to <em>die</em> and all.”</p><p>“You’re not gonna <em>die</em>,” said Claptrap.  “Unless <em>my</em> battery <em>also</em> goes.  Then I guess you are.”</p><p>“Great,” muttered Wheatley.</p><p>“It probably won’t, though!” Claptrap said.</p><p>“Why’re you saying that like you don’t know?”</p><p>“I… don’t.”  He really hoped he was going in the right direction, because if this dirt got much wetter he was no longer going to be able to move.  “My battery indicator is broken.”</p><p>“Wonderful,” Wheatley muttered.  “We’re both going to shut down and nobody’ll ever find us.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be like that,” chided Claptrap, and as luck would have it he collided with the shack right then and there.  In fact, he hit it so hard he fell over backward into the muck.</p><p>“Careful!” shouted Wheatley in a panic.  He was pretty sure Wheatley was still safe under his arm, if a little dirty, while Claptrap was currently stuck on his back and unable to see for shit thanks to all the rain currently filling up and spilling out of his eye.  He pushed his free arm underneath him and managed to get back onto his wheel again, reaching out to find the shack but getting nowhere.</p><p>“Hey, Wheatley,” Claptrap shouted over the sound of the torrent, “mind helping me out?  I’m runnin’ blind here!”</p><p>“Uh,” said Wheatley, “I’m not sure, mate.  Can’t see much of anything either.  Too much rain.  I think um… left.  Left is a good guess.”</p><p>“Left it is!”  And he flailed his hand in that general direction until he smacked it very hard against something very solid.  “Ow!”</p><p>“I think you got it!”</p><p>“No kidding.”  He placed his hand flat against the surface and discovered that trying to run his wheel only flung up a whole lotta wet clumpy dirt.  He could sort of hop, though, so he did that until his hand couldn’t find a wall anymore and he decided that meant it was because he had reached a doorless doorway.  He pulled himself inside and immediately was able to move much easier.</p><p>“Phew,” said Wheatley.  “Good to be out of that.”</p><p>Claptrap plunked him on the first surface he could find, which was probably a table, and pulled a towel out of storage, using it to dry his eye up.  Yep, Wheatley was on a table.  A little close to the edge, though.  He put Wheatley on the towel and wrapped him up in it a little so he could dry off.  Then Claptrap shook the water off himself and looked around.</p><p>There wasn’t much to see.  A sagging, taped-up couch, a broken television, a plain wood table with a bite out of it.  The usual.  This was probably, like, someone’s jack-off hut.  He was saved from thinking too much more about that when he got a really big, urgent notification that <em>wasn’t</em> an ad.</p><p>“Uh oh,” he said.</p><p>“What?” asked Wheatley from his towel.</p><p>“My battery’s dead.”  At least, that was what this giant red message said.  He was still <em>on</em> so it obviously wasn’t <em>totally</em> correct, but there was also no way of knowing when dead would be.  Time to start looking for a charger.</p><p>“Great,” groused Wheatley. </p><p>“Dude, calm down,” Claptrap said, pushing aside the TV.  There was an outlet there, but the top part of it had a fork sticking out of it so he was gonna guess that one was done.  That left… one outlet for the both of them to share.  Huh.  How was <em>that</em> going to work?  “Hey, Wheats.  What’re you packing?  Wall charger or USB or what?”</p><p>“Dunno what it’s called,” said Wheatley, and he kinda unravelled a cord from the back of his chassis.  Claptrap picked the end of it up and inspected it.</p><p>“I think I got something that’ll work with this.”  And he rummaged around in storage until he found the converter that he could plug into his wall adapter.  Then he looked at Wheatley.  “Is that uh… all the cord you got there or what?”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Wheatley.  “That thing’s usually only used for um, for manual data retrieval I think.  I’m s’posed to be plugged directly into a management rail.”</p><p>“Aha,” Claptrap said, not knowing what a management rail was.  “Okay, so, the thing is… your power cord is <em>super</em> short.  And there’s only one outlet workin’ over there.  So we’re gonna have to sit <em>real</em> close together so’s I can plug you into this port here.”</p><p>Wheatley’s shrug seemed like it took up most of his remaining juice.  Claptrap picked him up and rolled over to the outlet, where he set the both of them up.  Then they both just sat there for a minute.  Claptrap’s battery indicator blinked on and off and he stared at it.</p><p>“This is going to take a while, isn’t it,” said Wheatley.</p><p>“If you’d <em>told</em> me you weren’t solar powered, I coulda charged you myself this whole time!” Claptrap told him, flinging up his arms.  Wheatley frowned up at him.</p><p>“What um, what part of me did you think was the, the part that absorbed the sun?”</p><p>“All of you?  Duh.”  Actually, Claptrap didn’t remember what parts of <em>him</em> did, but he didn’t need to tell Wheatley that. </p><p>“Well, you can do that after the um, the rain lets up,” said Wheatley.  “Int’resting you can only go without power for about two minutes, though.”</p><p>“That’s what happens when you’re built with dirt cheap parts!” Claptrap told him.  Unlike Wheatley, apparently.  Wheatley seemed to be a super-specialised expensive robot.  He had to have, like, a custom motherboard with all custom components on it.  He looked down at him.  Oh, yeah.  That was a high-quality metal right there.  And no paint, either, which meant that you could wash him off with any old stuff and he’d look fine after.  Not Claptrap.  No, if anything harsh got on that damn white stripe it came <em>right</em> off.  And the LED panel for his eye was <em>obviously</em> high-end stuff.  Custom colours and everything!  Claptrap was pretty sure they’d just screwed a blue-green lightbulb into him and called it a day.   </p><p>The rubber on Wheatley’s handles looked like it would be nice to touch.  Not like the roughened stuff of Claptrap’s wheel that made a squeaky noise when he rubbed his hand on it, but like it was soft and gentle to the touch.  He really wanted to know if he was right.  He really, <em>really</em> wanted to know.  He wanted to give that handle a little touch and that was all.  He inched his hand across the floor towards Wheatley’s chassis, but before he’d gotten there Wheatley opened his eye and looked up at him.  He quickly pulled his arm away.</p><p>“What’re you doing?” Wheatley asked.</p><p>“Doing?” Claptrap answered, in his best innocent voice.  “I’m not doing anything!  Just sitting here, charging up and waitin’ out the rain just like you.”</p><p>“Mmhm,” said Wheatley, closing his eye again, and as soon as he did Claptrap twitched his hand forward again.  When Wheatley noticed Claptrap tapped his hand against the floor as though he were impatient and looked in the direction of the couch.  Yep.  Definitely a wank pad.</p><p>“Claptrap, I’ve just… I’ve got to ask,” said Wheatley.  “Is the rain, I dunno, frightening for you?  Would holding my handle make you feel better?”</p><p>Well, shit.  How was he supposed to answer that?  If he said no, he’d be giving up his chance, but if he said yes he’d just look like some kinda pussy. </p><p>“Go on then,” Wheatley said.  Now it would just be weird if he <em>didn’t</em> do it, so he scooted over to make it easier to reach and put his hand on Wheatley’s upper handle.  Oooh.  It <em>was</em> soft.  Damn.  How much had Wheatley cost to make, exactly?  Like, what even was this rubber on his handle <em>for</em>?  Maybe it was ‘cause people had to carry him everywhere.  Like he had the rubber so that people wouldn’t touch his metal and get it all fingerprinty.  What a life!  Maybe Claptrap could go back home with him and just be, like, his carrier robot.  It would sure beat getting his ass kicked all over Pandora.</p><p>Now that he knew what the handle was like, he was starting to wonder if Wheatley’s chassis was as smooth as it looked.  It was a bit scratched up, yeah, but it wasn’t all messed up with corrosion and bullet holes like Claptrap’s.  And he was pretty sure his chassis had been all roughed up <em>before</em> he’d actually done anything to it.  Oh, now he <em>really</em> wanted to touch it.  But he’d barely gotten away with trying to get his hand on this rubbery stuff!  How was he gonna explain sliding his hand onto the top of Wheatley’s chassis?</p><p>A sudden flash of light flared through the shack, and Wheatley jumped and retracted into himself as far as he could.  “What was that?” he cried out.  Claptrap looked in the direction of the window. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he answered.  “Could be anything.  There’s a lot of monsters here on Pandora.”</p><p>“<em>Monsters</em>?” repeated Wheatley, and when a long, low rumbling noise came from seemingly everywhere around them he shrieked and closed his eye.  Claptrap used his to spy an opportunity. </p><p>“Could be,” he said.  “Listen, you wanna sit in my storage tray insteada there on the floor?  If there really <em>is</em> something outside, we’ll be able to get out of here that much faster.”</p><p>“Um… alright,” said Wheatley, and Claptrap picked him up and settled him in there as nicely as he could.  After that, it was <em>only natural</em> that his hand ended up on top of his chassis!  Oh, it <em>was</em> nice and smooth and round.  Man, he’d never had so many of his predictions pan out before.  He pulled his hand back just a little bit, just to see how <em>that</em> felt, and it was <em>also</em> nice.  But he’d better not do it again.  Because he had no idea how he was gonna explain <em>this</em> one away.  Okay, one more time.  And mayyyyybe one more time after that.  Just because he was never gonna do it again.</p><p>The weird thing about it, though, was that Wheatley didn’t say anything.  In fact… he seemed to relax a little bit, though Claptrap wasn’t sure because while he was working that out the light returned and the loud noise shook the cabin again, which caused Wheatley to go back to holding his chassis closed.  Well, it couldn’t hurt to try it again, right?</p><p>“It’s alright, man,” he said, stroking the top of Wheatley’s chassis a little.  “Look, I know I talk Pandora up as bein’, like, this big murder hellscape – and it is! – but you don’t gotta worry.  I <em>always</em> get outta trouble one way or another.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah.”  He decided to put his other arm inside his storage tray.  To… to make sure Wheatley was secure in there.  He was round, after all.  He might roll out.  “I’ve been through <em>so</em> much s*** it’s kinda depressing, actually.  We’re gonna be a-okay, though.  This kinda stuff builds character or something.”</p><p>He was pretty sure he wasn’t mistaken in thinking Wheatley had used his handle on Claptrap’s arm to push himself against Claptrap’s chassis a little better.  “’S not so bad, considerin’,” said Wheatley. </p><p>“As long as the company is good, it’s all good!”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Wheatley thoughtfully.  “The people I used to know?  Awful, the lot of them.  Wouldn’t’ve wanted to have to do this with any of them.”</p><p>“Tell me about it,” commiserated Claptrap.  “They probably woulda used this outlet to plug in a lava lamp and let me die in the corner.”</p><p>Wheatley shook himself and almost casually put his lower handle on top of Claptrap’s arm.  “We just don’t um, just don’t get the <em>appreciation</em> we deserve, do we.”</p><p>“Hell no,” said Claptrap.  “That’s why guys like us gotta stick together!”</p><p>They sat like that in appreciative silence for a few minutes, and it was way nicer than Claptrap would’ve expected it to be.  In fact, he was enjoying it so much he was kinda disappointed when Wheatley said, “Hey Claptrap, I think it’s ended.”</p><p>Claptrap looked up to see that the sun was now coming through all the holes in the shack instead of water.  “Oh,” he said. </p><p>“I’m ready to head off if you are.”</p><p>He wasn’t, but what he wanted wasn’t usually important anyways.  He unplugged them both and shoved his stuff back into storage while Wheatley… retracted? that seemed to be it – his charger back into his chassis.  Then he put Wheatley back under his arm like before and went outside.  Not very far, because the ground was mostly muck and puddles too deep for him to drive through, but enough that they weren’t in the musty old shack anymore.</p><p>There were still clouds out there, though they were quickly rushing off to wherever clouds went, and the sky was like… purply-orange.  It reflected really nicely off all the water on the ground, and it even sparkled a little bit like he’d only seen before in movies set places that weren’t Pandora, and… it was nice.  It was still a little windy so it wasn’t oppressively hot like usual, and honestly if Pandora were a little more like this <em>all</em> the time maybe he wouldn’t’ve hated living there so much.  It was all going away before his eye, though.  The sky was fading back into endless blue as the sun and the dirt took away all of the water, and within another few minutes it would be like nothing had happened at all.  It was probably a sign that what had happened in the shack was nothing and he should just forget about it.  Pandora was returning to its regular state of a lonely wasteland and Claptrap was forever doomed to wander it.  Alone.  Forever.</p><p>“Say, Claptrap,” Wheatley said after Claptrap had spent a minute or two trying to think of an excuse to stay there a little longer even though the ground was dry, “what d’you think of… of <em>not</em> dropping me off someplace when we get to civilisation, and just… y’know, letting me tag along with you.”</p><p>What he <em>wanted</em> to do was jump up and down in excitement, but he couldn’t do that.  Had to play it cool.  He’d scared off <em>soooo </em>many people by being too enthusiastic about this kinda thing.  “Sure,” Claptrap said, super casual.  “I mean, I’m not in any rush if you’re not.”</p><p>“Probably shouldn’t go back home, anyways,” said Wheatley.  “The lady who runs that place is not um, is not <em>tremendously</em> pleased with me at the moment.”</p><p>A boss lady, huh?  “Is she hot?”</p><p>“Uh,” Wheatley said, seeming stumped by the question.  “She um… I wasn’t thinking about any of that at the time, to be honest.  Trying really hard not to get killed by her.  Because she wanted to kill me.  And then I tried to kill her.  And then she… she left me in space.  And that’s pretty much what happened.  Not much else in there to mention.”</p><p>“So she’s <em>super</em> hot.”</p><p>“I s’pose,” Wheatley said, not sounding happy about this, and Claptrap gave him a pat.</p><p>“Don’t worry, pal.  You’re pretty cute yourself!”</p><p>Whoops. </p><p>He looked down at Wheatley, and Wheatley looked up at him, and neither of them said anything.  That was, until Wheatley said,</p><p>“You’re prob’ly not so bad yourself, but um, but I can’t tell through all the mud.  What say we find someplace to get cleaned up so I can get a better look, yeah?”</p><p>“I gotta warn you,” said Claptrap, now holding Wheatley in front of him with both arms as they headed off, “I am <em>incredibly</em> handsome.”</p><p>“That right?”</p><p>“Yep!” Claptrap said, moving up a little straighter.  “You are <em>not</em> gonna be able to take that eye off me.”</p><p>Wheatley laughed.  “Let’s hope I enjoy the view, then.”</p><p>“Oh, you will.  Trust me on that.”  And he gave Wheatley a reassuring pat with one hand.</p><p>“If you wanted to keep that there,” Wheatley said with impressive casualness, “I s’pose that’d be alright.”</p><p>“You suppose, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah, y’know.”  He shrugged a little.  “If you wanted.”</p><p>Claptrap did want, and he did not intend not to want anytime soon.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just something silly :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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